The One With The Reversed Striptease
by Lianna H
Summary: That inevitable moment in the early hours had arrived once again. A moment he would never want to miss. Mondler, one-shot, canon.


A/N: This fic is the result of a song that I couldn't get out of my head. The title and the story are based on the first verse of that song. The story takes place at the beginning of the fifth season, where no one knows about Chandler and Monica's relationship.

Disclaimer: I don't own Friends or the song 'Zelfs Je Naam Is Mooi' by Henk Westbroek.

**The One With The Reversed Striptease**

It wasn't the alarm that woke him or some unexplainable annoying noise elsewhere in the apartment. It wasn't even a sound that took him out of his unconscious state and it couldn't even be counted as something annoying. In fact, it was one of those things you were allowed to wake him up for at any given moment.

…and no, not _that_. Although, _that_ was also on that list.

It was the movement of the mattress being lifted lightly and the sudden loss of that familiar warmth at his side. And with that came the realization that their time together for that night had come to an end.

That moment always brought sadness, in the first place. More than anything, he preferred for her to stay, but they both knew that couldn't happen, as they were both very aware of the consequences that such actions would bring along.

Even though being awake at this moment left him feeling sad, he wouldn't want to miss it. Because witnessing this short period of time, gave him the strength he needed to believe, that whatever it was that was going on between them, was strong and nowhere near a point of ending. But most of all, she showed him, in these early hours, that it wasn't one-sided.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. Even before his eyes had accustomed to the dark, he knew in which direction to look. And Indeed, he found her in her usual spot, with her back to him on the side of the bed, her head low and her feet already planted on the floor.

The need to reach out to her and pull her back to him was immense, but he wouldn't dare to interrupt her thoughts.

As he watched her sitting like this, he wondered what she was thinking about. If she had the same thoughts he had when he had to leave her place and if she had the same motives for not being in a hurry to leave.

He wanted to believe that all of that was true, but at the same time, he couldn't ignore that scoffing sound in his head, saying it was just wishful thinking.

Another, stronger, part of him, however, told him that it wasn't that improbable. Simply, because the way she was sitting there in silence, not moving, was very unlike her.

For as long as he had known her, she never postponed getting up. She was that person who stood next to the bed as soon as the alarm made a noise. Unlike him, who subconsciously snoozed, which was proven yet again only a few minutes earlier when the alarm didn't wake him a few minutes prior.

So, that she had been stalling ever since they'd started seeing each other, had to be a good thing, right?

She straightened up a little as she took a deep and slow breath before letting it out like a sigh, all in preparation for standing up. Every movement seemed in a slow manner, at least that was what it looked like from his perspective, but maybe it was just his half-sleepy brain playing tricks on him.

All that overthinking, which it was way too early for anyway, left his mind as he settled his focus on just her. He watched as she shamelessly stepped around the room without any clothes on, in search of the clothes they had hastily gotten rid off only a few hours ago.

All of that previous haste was gone now and replaced by an unhurried pace, making every movement look more elegant.

His eyes didn't leave her once as she picked up her underwear and pajama off the ground, unrushed and all so graceful.

She really was a remarkable woman as she was able to have him as focused and transfixed on her with a striptease as one in reverse.

"I can see you looking at me, you know."

He blinked to stop the stare and looked up to meet her teasing smile. "Sorry," he muttered in response, more as a reflex than really knowing what he was apologizing for.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," she said, keeping her voice low, as she finished buttoning up her pajama top.

"Oh, I know I am allowed to look at you," he said, sitting up.

She cocked her eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest. "What makes you say that?" she questioned and took a few steps into his direction.

"Because you do it too," he shrugged.

"So, if I do it, you are allowed to do it too?" she asked, looking even more bewildered. "What is this, second grade?"

He held up his hands. "I call it fighting for equal rights. And definitely not second grade. The things that happen in our rooms are not meant to be seen by those with innocent eyes." He paused. "Or anyone else besides the two of us, actually," he added quickly.

She nodded and walked over to his side of the bed and sat down. "You're right, that's fair."

"I'd never thought I would hear those words coming from your mouth," he grinned, while he moved over to sit behind her and reached his hand out to brush the hair from her face, so he could look at her.

There was a moment of silence before she turned her head a little so that they could lock eyes. "I guess I like you that much then," she whispered finally, possibly after some hesitation as if afraid of what his reaction would be.

He could understand her fear and he had to admit that he was quite surprised himself that a part of him didn't tell him it was time to run for the hills. Pleasantly surprised, of course. Instead of that all too familiar panic, a felt a warm feeling creep inside of him.

He placed his fingertips under her chin and tilted her head so that he could give her a soft kiss. "Good to know," he whispered against her lips when they pulled back.

Her eyes were still closed, but she was smiling. The smile didn't last long, though, because as soon as she opened her eyes, she dropped her gaze to her folded hands in her lap.

For only a split second, he felt that feeling of panic again, as he wondered what he had said and/or done wrong. But then he remembered what time it was and with that, he found her sudden change of mood completely understandable.

He wrapped his arms around her slim waist and rested his chin on her shoulder, not saying anything for a while. She laid her arms on top of his and rested her head against his. Both enjoying being in each other's arms.

"You can stay here tonight," he whispered into her shoulder, knowing that couldn't happen, but needing to tell her that he'd preferred if she'd stayed.

She scoffed, humorlessly. "Then how would you explain to me having slept in your room?"

She didn't say that she didn't want to stay. She was more like looking for a believable excuse for their nosy friends. He couldn't think of anything that wouldn't leave them suspicious and with even more questions. "You got a nightmare and came to me for protection?" he suggested lamely.

"I think it's more likely the other way around," she chuckled, making him happy that her somber mood was gone for now.

"Ouch," he laughed with her, tightening his hold on her. "Though, I think they will be more likely to believe this than the actual truth."

"You may have a point there."

"Plus that won't give Ross a reason to hunt me down."

She nodded and once again a silence followed. They were really stalling now and taking a risk with that. Because the longer they stayed here in each other's arms, the higher the chances were that their secret would be exposed.

"I should get going," she said eventually, though not making any move to get up.

"Maybe I just won't let go off you," he challenged her, desperate to keep her here longer, and with every second that passed the more convinced he grew that she had to stay, consequences be damned.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You know that I'm stronger than you, right?"

"You should know that I used to be the main target of bullies at my school, so I know how to defend myself," he grinned, glad that the topic of having to leave was off the table for now.

"And you should know that used to wrestle a lot with Ross and that I was undefeated," she shot back, determined to win, the fire in her eyes showing. "And I'm just stronger than you," she added.

They stared each other down, keeping a serious expression while looking deeply into the other's eyes. He was the first to blink, not really surprising himself, or anyone actually because she always won.

"Okay," he sighed, keeping his tone light and teasingly, "I'll set you free," he said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, before releasing his hold on her.

"Thanks," she replied, smiling as she stood up. "Don't get up," she directed him, pushing him back down by his shoulders as he was about to follow her.

Before he could voice out his protests and disappointment, she bent down to place her lips to his for a sweet, lingering kiss.

"Can I make you breakfast in the morning?"

She looked at him quizzically, and really, he couldn't blame her. The question came totally out of the blue, but that didn't take away that he meant it.

"Where did that come from? Isn't that my task?"

"You stayed the night here, so I should be the one making you breakfast," he said matter-of-factly, to him that sounded like the right thing to do, the way it was supposed to be.

She brushed her thumb lightly over his chin, smiling sweetly. "We can't take that risk. Maybe another time," she added looking at his pleading look.

"Deal," he grinned. "I just want to do something," he admitted after he tried to get up again, but was pushed down again.

"Just be yourself," she responded immediately. "And go back to sleep," she said, pushing him further down, so he laid down on his back. "See you in a few hours?"

"Definitely." It was another reason why he enjoyed being with her so much, he could just be himself without any judgment. And besides, acting like someone he wasn't, wasn't possible anyways, since she knew him through and through. She would immediately notice if he was acting differently.

With one last kiss, she made her way to the door.

"Hey," he whispered as he sat up a little and rested backward on his elbows, remembering he had forgotten to say something. She turned around, one hand on the doorknob. "You know I like you that much too, you know?"

"Now I know," she said, smiling her brightest smile, and he knew that he had something right.

The goodbye's followed and after some final looks, she was on the other side of the door, making as little noise as possible. He had to strain his ears, so he could hear the front door open and close. After that, he was met with silence.

Looking at the empty spot beside him, he felt that slight tinge of sadness, but that was soon overshadowed by all the warm and positive feelings that overcame him just thinking about her. A perfect beauty with a wonderful personality, who could even make daily and normal tasks look fascinating

Monica.


End file.
